


A Familiar Voice

by lemonsorbetpudding



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bad Weather, Cold Weather, Crack Fic, Jokes, M/M, big glasses, blob dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbetpudding/pseuds/lemonsorbetpudding
Summary: George is a normal British man. Dream is a non human blob. One day, George finds this non human blob and takes him home. This is the beginning of the adventures of a white blob with a permanent smile and an ordinary man with outrageously large sunglasses.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	A Familiar Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George meets an awfully familiar voice through a thunderstorm and heavy rain.

It was a rainy afternoon in the country of Great Britain. A young man with surprisingly large sunglasses walked though the crowd. As it usually was in London or wherever this was in England, people were angry and ready to get out of their little cramped cubicles and go home. However, this young man was not going in the direction one might expect, pushing through the crowd of people walking the opposite way.

First of all, he has no mouth. Unable say “excuse me” without freaking people out, all he could do in regards of getting through the crowd was weaving and dodging through the sea of people. Luckily, he was good at pinpointing the exact path he needed to get through.  
After all, his entire face composed of his white rimmed sunglasses that took up his entire face. Under them were gigantic eyes that have been said to stare into the deepest part of your soul, eyes that have stared into the abyss. These eyes were said to have stared so hard into the abyss that it didn’t stare back. Either way, his peepers were a horrifying sight.

George made sure he was avoiding gazes of people (and people in general). The only thing on his mind and had wanted to do since the morning was to play the best game in the world: Minecraft. The cube game, the sandbox game everyone raved about. The next thing he thought about was whether he wanted to stream. He was planning on streaming because he was a streamer (screamer?) and an entertainer. Perhaps he would stream it on twitch.tv slash prime or if he was feeling funky, the you of the tube or the Facebook. Do...do people even use Facebook these days?

The midst of his thoughts, the British weather suddenly decided to stick up its middle finger to all of the people outside as a downpour had started.

Now his only thought was damn. the weather, as he started to sprint across a random street in an attempt for cover. Luckily for the large eyed youngster, he spotted an out perch, running over and sitting under it happily. At least he wouldn’t be completely drenched in the rain.

In this moment of repose, he took off his sunglasses and wiped them dry on his blue shirt. He was glad, at the very least sat in an empty alleyway with no one. His beautiful *cough* slightly horrific *cough*, totally real actual face would have dazzled any mortal that dared crossed him. They would then disintegrate on the spot as a result of his outlandishly angelic features. After scrubbing off the last of the water droplets, he put his sunglasses back on. He sat down and looked at the opposite wall.

The rain began pouring hard. George sighed. How was he going to go back home without getting completely drenched? Was there anything in this alleyway he could use?

George quickly glanced around, taking a good look at his surroundings. There was nothing around him except for this conveniently large box which happened to be intact and also next to him! Nice.

However, there was something strange about this box. It seemed to be...moving, as if there was a living thing inside of it. With delicate and painstakingly slow movements, George slowly opened the box.

Before he opened this suspicious brown box, he had expected rats or squirrels to jump out and attack him for disturbing their peace, or their delicious (garbage) dinner. What he didn’t expect was this small white blob with an interesting smiley face. The face looked like it was drawn badly with ms paint, like a child had painted it with the intent of saying was you with a bright eyed smile. Now, it might seem cute if it was drawn by an actual child but instead was creepy considering this thing was constantly smiling, staring at you with beady little eyes.

What the fuck. 

George could only stare at this strange yet cute and (potentially) monstrous little thing as those three words continuously played in his head. 

To be fair, the small blob wasn’t the only abomination here.

The two strange individuals stared at each other as if the two were looking into each other’s souls in an attempt to gauge the other.

As usual, the British weather interrupted this staring contest with a loud bang and crash. As if on cue, both of them looked towards the sky.

Oh my god. It was raining, it was raining hard. George frowned underneath his sunglasses. The weather report didn’t say there was going to be a thunderstorm.

George stared at the little blob in the box. Very meticulously, he took the blob in his hand while grabbing the box and putting it on his head.

If anyone was wondering, he couldn’t see. It was very dark if you put a box on your head.

With one hand, he pushed and held the box up so it was above his eyes. He looked at the blob in his hand. 

“Hold still,” he said.

Then he dashed across five streets, sprinted up the stairs and slammed the door as soon as he entered.

Whew.

Catching his breath, George set the small blob down on his gaming table (copyright, trademark). Then he moved his gamer boy chair (even more copyright, trademark), sat down and looked down at the blob.

“So...I’m George,” he said in his notable and prominent British accent. “What exactly...are you?”

The blob slowly lifted its head up. In a very familiar voice, it said;

“I’m Dream.”

If George had a mouth, it would be wide open and agape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blob dream is here goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> apologies if anything is ooc


End file.
